


Through The Barricades

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-28
Updated: 2006-02-28
Packaged: 2018-08-15 23:48:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8078350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: (05/31/2004)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: I think I'm going to regret posting this next part.  


* * *

"I've found Malcolm." 

No. Malcolm's gone. He doesn't want to be found. 

"Where?" 

* 

Cool, green earth. Squat buildings, ready for anything. 

Anything. I used to be ready for anything. 

Thirty years is a long time to live, especially when you only hope for the next day. 

And the next day was all I could hope for. 

All my life I knew I was a disappointment; to my father, my family. I was a disappointment to my friends, my home. It was a burden I had to bear. I wanted, oh how I wanted, to belong. For a while I did belong. But it was all interrupted. Bloody Xindi. 

I know, I know. I should be grieving for the far off millions or cheering for the peace. But I'm selfish. Even now, with a whole planet before me, where I have made a home, I still hark back to those perfect days. We were so confident, sure. Sure in ourselves. 

I suppose that was my downfall. 

To me it was obvious we were being manipulated. But was it so very strange? I recognised the paterns, history repeats so they say. We were being squeezed. Squeezed out of existence. 

And they stopped it. 

'They'. 

Not 'they'. Archer. Mayweather. Sato. T'Pol. Trip. My friends. 

What does it matter anymore? 

We won. They won. 

And I lost. 

Ah well. You can't cross the same river twice. Even if you are a soddin' time-traveller. I just wish I could explain... 

"Explain what?" 

"Bloody hell. Don't do that to me!" 

"Sorry." Daniels bobbed his head contritely. 

"What are you doing here?" The wizened figure that once had been Malcolm Reed paused in his labours and leaned on his rake. 

"I found something of yours." Daniels grinned, stepped back, and disappeared into a clump of begonias. 

"Show off." Malcolm muttered. He turned towards the shadowy figure. It seemed familiar. "I warn you, I'm armed." With a rake. 

"Are you really? That's good to know." 

That voice. No, it could not be. 

"Trip?" 

"Malcolm." 

This was it. The response he had been expecting. The door chimed, he answered, they came in, he was arrested. By the book. Malcolm was touched that Ensign Tanner looked uncomfortable. Perhaps he had more influence than he expected. 

The cuffs were fixed and Malcolm was marched into the corridor. He did not resist. What was the point? Somehow or other his concerns about the upcoming mission had become public knowledge, probably through Travis; the man might be the single greatest pilot in the galaxy but if he ever wanted to be a captain he'd have to learn to keep his mouth shut. 

"What's goin' on here?" 

Malcom's heart sank. Not Tucker, not now. 

"Sir! You remember the discussion the senior staff had about 'Security'?" 

"Yes." 

"This is the result." Kemper gestured to the hunched form. 

"Is that right?" Tucker stepped back a pace, crossed his arms and looked to the stars for strength. 

Daniels head popped out, winked and disappeared. Tucker blinked. 

"Release the lieutenant, sergeant." 

"Sir?" 

"You heard me." 

"As you wish, sir." Kemper fumbled unnecessarily with the cuffs until even he could not spin out the transaction any longer. 

"Dismissed, sergeant." 

"Sir." With a deeply suspicious look at Reed and then Tucker, Kemper finally turned the corner, Tanner and the other MACO trailing in his wake. Tanner allowed the MACO to precede him and then turned back and gave a 'thumb's up' to the two officers. 

"So." Malcolm rubbed his wrists. 

"So, you are the most irritating, presumptious, paranoid man I've ever known." 

"Presumptious? Perhaps we are spending too much time together." 

"Not enough." 

Malcolm's mouth opened in a preliminary for a scathing attack, then his ears kicked in and belatedly his brain. 

"Not enough?" 

"No. Never." 

Reed looked around, confused. "What's going on here?" 

"I finally realised something." 

"Really?" 

Tucker kissed the tip of Reed's nose. "Yes, really. I finally realised that the living are more important than the dead." 

"Oh." 

"Is that all you have to say? 'Oh.'" 

"No! Yes." 

"Which?" 

Malcom Reed shook his head and gripped Trip's forearms. "You're alive, I'm alive. Let's remember them." 

Trip crushed the lieutenant to him. "Every day." 

~the end~


End file.
